


All The Way Home

by rufus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Multi, Post - Deathly Hallows, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 17:48:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufus/pseuds/rufus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, and life after "death."</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Way Home

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LJ, 8/24/2008
> 
> Warnings: I've given this an Mature rating erring on the side of caution, more for dark(ish) themes and self-destructive behavior than explicit shenanigans. Contains non-sexual violence and Remus engaging in sex work as part of a barter economy.
> 
> A/N: With much gratitude to mnemosyne_1 for beta reading; all remaining mistakes are my own. Title taken from a Springsteen song of the same name.

In the year of 1997, in the month of June, Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord and Severus Snape died.

Temporarily.

Thanks to quick thinking on the part of anonymous rescuers (or, as Severus preferred to think of them, _meddling dunderheads_ ) he was brought to Madame Pomfrey in time to be revived.

Three months later he was released from the Hogwarts Infirmary and turned loose upon the still-wobbly Wizarding world with a clean set of robes, a new wand, an official pardon for all of his crimes (known and unknown) signed by Kingsley Shacklebolt, thirty galleons advance on his pension, and one slightly manky jumper that Filch had found in the Headmaster's office and insisted Snape take away with him. Severus rather suspected it had belonged to one of the Carrows, and binned it upon arriving in Hogsmeade.

The following morning whilst consuming a bowl of hot porridge under Rosemerta's wary eye, he made a list of things he was going to need. _Cauldron_ , he wrote. _Ladle. Bed. Sheets. Owl. Owl food._ After that his mind went blank, and Severus spent some time staring at the parchment, waiting for more words to appear. In time the words he had stopped making sense, and he crumpled up the parchment and shoved it in his pocket. When he ran out of porridge, Severus slid a few coins across the counter and left, feeling vaguely as if he had a very full diary but had managed to forget all of his appointments. 

Severus wandered aimlessly between the shops for a time, picking things up and setting them down, until the combined pressure of muffled whispers and blatant staring pushed him out onto the road and into the train station. He sat on a bench for a while, studying his crumpled list, then decided to abandon the restrictions of his awkward conscience, disregard the pains of his foolish heart, and follow his cock.

It led him to London, and then to red-haired women. Tall ones, short ones, skinny ones, fat ones, he fucked them all dutifully and paid whatever price was asked. He was a little bit surprised when his cock evinced interest in brown-haired men, but not that much, and he fucked them obediently as well.

After a while Severus' cock grew weary of plain fucking and led him to dimly lit and often smoky clubs where more complicated assignations could be negotiated. One morning, after an encounter with both a red haired woman _and_ a brown haired man that had involved whips, spiky bracelets and apple strudel, he found a small, cream-coloured card tucked into the pocket of his robes. It had an Owl Post address written on it in spiky but still tidy handwriting, as well as a note: _Tell him Gawain sent you._

Severus turned it over, but there was nothing else. He went downstairs to the pub for breakfast, and thought about it. Not just a stranger his cock noticed in a pub, but a _complete_ stranger; there wasn't even a name on the card. _It could be anyone._ His sensibilities crawled out from wherever they had been hiding and made a huffing noise. _A stranger who might go straight to the Prophet, or . . . or tie you up and keep you in the bottom of a hole. A stranger who might even kill you so that you stay dead!_

Severus ate two fried kippers, weighing all of that against the fact that the brown-haired man of the night before _(Gawain?)_ had been a dab hand with both the apple strudel and the whip, and if _he_ recommended the stranger . . . Severus' cock twitched, and he sighed, his decision made. When he had finished his bacon, he sent a note to the address requesting an appointment. Three hours later, whilst being ministered to with hot wax by a red-haired person of indeterminate gender, he received a reply.

_Tuesday, one o'clock, Room 104, The Merman's Revenge, Brighton. Please advise in advance if you require special accommodation for food allergies or medical conditions, including curse damage._

**

The Merman's Revenge had, at one time, been a respectable place. There had been fine furniture in the lobby and blooming plants in the boxes outside. Severus knew this from the faded pictures on the wall; the current incarnation of the place had more ashtrays than end tables, and the carpet was a collage of mysterious stains. He picked his way through the lobby carefully, dodging teetering drunks and wild-eyed women pushing prams full of old clothes, and started up the stairs. There was also a redhead struggling with something sticky and unpleasant at the reception desk; his cock made a note of her for future reference.

The door to Room 104 was unadorned, almost suspiciously so, and he ran a check for Dark spells. When nothing appeared, he knocked on it, his skin already tingling (or was that crawling?) with anticipation. 

He heard some muffled thumping, the thunk of a bolt sliding back, and the door swung open, revealing a short, slender . . . _werewolf._ In a white – no, that wasn't a nightie. It was a shapeless white garment that could do a decent impersonation of a nightie, but was, if you looked closely, decidedly lacking in frills and made of far too sturdy cloth. It was the sort of thing a hermit would have taken into the cave with him, before it got mucky and covered in cooking grease.

"Lupin," Severus breathed, tightening his grip on his wand as a wave of dizziness rolled over him. He was going to find Gawain, if that was actually his name, and – and – 

"Severus," Lupin said, taking a step backwards. 

The insufferable creature didn't even look surprised to see him. Severus' survival hadn't been that well publicized; Minerva must have been gossiping. 

"You're dead," Severus snapped, straightening up, strengthened by familiar irritation.

"Only for an hour or two," Lupin said, shrugging one shoulder. "And I don't like to mention it, Severus, but so are you."

Severus snarled at him, and Lupin had the temerity to smile.

"Come in, then, and I'll put the kettle on," Lupin said, and Severus' legs stepped over the threshold, disobeying direct orders from his brain to turn and walk the other way.

**

"Milk or lemon?" Remus called out, opening the door of the mini-fridge, and being careful not to make any sudden movements.

McGonagall's note, sent not long after Severus' release, had been short: _He has, as our Australian colleagues say, gone walkabout._ A different, longer missive had followed from Poppy, which filled in a few of the shadows in a way that implied much but confirmed very little. 

And then the word on the street had started to filter back; a mixed collection of sightings (real and imagined), tall tales and outright lies wrapped around a steady drumbeat of possible truths: _Severus Snape has bloody lost it. Severus Snape is fucking his way across London. Severus Snape can go all night and twice the next morning. Put your prettiest red-headed girls and brightest brown-haired boys out for Severus Snape. Severus Snape is trying to shag himself back into the grave._

"Milk," Snape said, sounding as if the thought had had to come from very far away. "What does Potter think of you being a whore?"

Remus stirred sugar into his mug slowly, unsurprised but irritated anyway. He waited for his pulse to settle down before he answered.

"I'm not a whore, Severus," Remus said. "I have a Ministry pension, just as you do. And Harry is quite keen to see you, you know."

Snape growled low in his throat, and the hair on the back of Remus' neck twitched but did not quite stand up. He floated Snape's mug over and removed few small hunks of cheese from the mini-fridge, and a loaf of bread from the cupboard. Severus didn't look starved or sick, and his clothes were clean and fit properly. But there was something in his face, perhaps in his eyes, which suggested all was not well.

_Five . . . four . . . three . . ._

"Who's making your Wolfsbane?" Snape asked, his tone almost accusatory, as Remus sliced the cheese into small, bite-sized pieces and tore the bread into chunks.

"Ministry," Remus said, gathering up the food and moving to sit down in the chair across from Snape. "Hermione has been very – "

"And the boy?" Snape interrupted, his eyes darting around the room as if he expected to find a poorly-concealed infant lurking amid the ratty furniture.

"Andromeda and I have worked out an arrangement to our mutual satisfaction," Remus said, and sipped his tea.

Snape harrumphed into his mug and gathered up several chunks of cheese with a few graceful movements. Remus settled back in his chair, crossed one leg over the other and watched Snape eat. On closer inspection, he looked tired _(worn out)_ , and the lines on his face were more prominent than Remus remembered. 

"If you aren't a whore, what _do_ you do?" Snape asked a bit later, his voice both puzzled and cross. 

"A little of this, a little of that," Remus murmured, and took a drink from his mug. "People bring me things they need help with. And sometimes I do have sex with them."

Snape's eyes widened, and Remus permitted himself a small smile.

"Speaking of which, Severus, what brings you here today?" Remus asked, genuinely curious. 

Gawain's note, which had arrived only an hour or so before Severus', had only said _Met an old chum of yours in t'pub, gave him your address, hope you don't mind. Auld Davey's paid me in flobberworms again, see you on Wednesday to trade 'em for silver?_

Snape flushed pink and fixed his eyes on his lap, his fingers flexing over his knees. 

"We can still do that if you like," Remus said, careful to keep his tone neutral. 

Snape's head snapped up, his eyes dark with an emotion Remus could not identify, and then he looked back at his knees.

 _Was that a yes or a no, Severus?_ Remus thought, and drained his teacup. _Ah well, in for a sickle, in for a Galleon._

"Right, I'll just go and get ready. The bedroom is through that door, and the props cupboard is just inside on the left," Remus said, standing up. "The door on the right is the loo, if you need it."

Remus moved slowly, tidying away the remains of their snack, throwing the bolts on the door but pointedly not resetting the wards, acutely aware that Severus was watching his every move. When he was finished he went into the second -- magically constructed, and much nicer – bathroom, closed the door, and waited. There was a long silence, followed by a muffled creaking noise _(couch)_ and a faint thud _(bedroom door hitting the wall)_. Remus exhaled softly, shucked his robes, and climbed into the shower.

 _Top or bottom, Severus?_ Remus wondered, curling forward to let the hot water run over the muscles of his lower back. _Top, probably._ He washed thoroughly, teasing his cock to semi-hardness as he worked. Twenty minutes later he closed the bathroom door behind him and moved towards the bedroom, his stomach unaccountably full of butterflies.

 _It's just Snape,_ he told himself, as he turned the handle. _He's_ – Remus paused, taking in the scene on the bed. Severus was curled on his side in the middle of the mattress, naked, his hair spread out over the pillow; he seemed to be asleep. There was a motley collection of items on the coverlet next to him – some scarves, a padded flogger, a tutu – and he was still holding his wand in the hand Remus could see.

Remus held still for a moment, wondering if Snape would sense his presence and wake. When he didn't, Remus covered him with the spare quilt at the end of the bed and retreated to the other room to get dressed.

**

Severus woke to the smell of roasting meat and the muffled crinkle of someone reading a paper. He lay still for a while, warm, blank, and heavy-limbed, until he remembered both where he was and whom he was probably laying next to and rolled away so quickly he fell off the bed.

"Severus?" Lupin called out, and Severus heard the bed creak. "All right?"

"You," Severus hissed, as Lupin's face came into view. Severus narrowed his eyes and glared, but Lupin just arched an eyebrow at him.

"You seemed like you needed a rest," Lupin said, his tone calm and even. "Will you stay to tea? The roast is already in the oven and Mrs. Warner brought over some of her special biscuits –"

" _No,_ " Severus snarled, and struggled to his feet, embarrassed, enraged and beyond caring that he was naked.

Lupin's expression changed three times in rapid succession before settling on something that looked like "mild disappointment," and Severus was horrified when he felt himself wavering. The meat did smell awfully good.

"I'm expected in London this evening," Severus snapped, though he wasn't, and yanked his robe off a nearby chair and over his head.

"Mmm," Lupin said, as if he were aware it was a lie but didn't especially mind. 

Severus breathed deeply against the urge to punch Lupin in the face, and sat down to put his shoes and boots on. He was definitely going to find "Gawain" and – 

"Would you like my spare umbrella? It's pelting down in the city, according to the WWN," Remus said, as if they were friends.

Severus ignored him, and Apparated away without another word.

**

For two months afterwards, Severus was haunted by the name of Lupin's stupid, tumbledown wreck of a hotel.

It showed up everywhere: scribbled on blotter pads in the boudoirs of extraordinarily expensive women, printed neatly on the almost-cardboard walls of rooms rented by to filthy streetwalking boys, wiggling seductively heavy Gothic type favored by the _Prophet_ when one of the other residents – Severus read the article only long enough to be bitterly disappointed that it was not Lupin – was raided by the Aurors. 

His cock, however, was blissfully unaware anything was amiss. It seemed content to linger in London, and in particular at the brothels on the Isle of Dogs, where the sheets smelled vaguely of the river as well as smoke and spunk. It still occasionally led him into the seedier parts of the city, into dark pubs where heavily tattooed men shagged Severus up against filthy walls and to dreary bedsits where Severus put on a red wigs and high heels and tried not to think too hard about the stains on the mattresses of strangers while he screwed them.

On Christmas Eve, it led him to Knockturn Alley and the sharp end of a slender blade. It would have been worse, but Severus smelled the poison in the "tea" he was served the next morning, and didn't drink it. He left his payment on the dresser and made his way down the back stairs, intending to escape without further notice. His brown-haired host met him at the bottom with bigger knife and three mates, and they got in several solid hits before Severus managed to get his fingers around his wand and Apparate away.

**

Remus was making toast when something heavy slammed into his front door and, from the sound of things, slid down to the floor. He regarded it warily for a moment _(the kids next door?)_ and then he heard the low cough and the muffled groan, and wrenched the door open.

Severus Snape was lying on his doormat in a heap of limbs and black clothing. He looked paler than the last time Remus had seen him, and – was that _blood_ on his face?

"Severus," he said, kneeling down. "Severus, what's happened? Are you all right? What are you doing here?" 

"Sod off." Snape coughed again and sat up, his face set into a familiar, almost comforting scowl. He muttered something that might have been _Merlin be-damned Gryffindors_ under his breath, but he didn't object to Remus helping him to stand. _Thinner too,_ Remus thought, and didn't let go when Snape tried to pull away. Snape slapped at his hands, and Remus noticed there was more blood trickling from under the edges of his robes.

"You're bleeding, Severus, let me clean you up and put some plasters on, at least," Remus said. "And give you some paracetamol."

Snape growled low in his throat and stabbed at Remus with the end of his wand, but he didn't actually leave.

"I know, but there's something comforting about a plaster, don't you think?" Remus heard rustling further down the hall and tightened his grip on Snape's damp, heavy robes to pull him inside.

"Mrs. Warner," Remus said, closing the door while Snape glared at him balefully. "She'll be wanting to borrow a cup of Pepper-Up and gossip about her cats if she knows I'm awake. Sit here just a tick, and I'll be right back."

Snape lowered himself into one of the kitchen chairs, still scowling, and Remus made for the nearest bathroom. He was fishing an elderly bottle of witch hazel out from under the sink when he heard the front door click open and Mrs. Warner's familiar brassy tones filled the room.

 _Bugger_ , he thought, suppressing a sigh. Though really, the amount of noise Snape had made showing up, it was surprising the porter hadn't come up to investigate as well. Remus straightened up, squared his shoulders, and stepped out of the bathroom. 

**

"And I said to him, I said, Mr. _Snodgrass_ , that is no way to behave. I said, Mr. Snodgrass, you should be _ashamed_ of yourself," the strange woman said, her cup clinking against her saucer for emphasis. "And then he _hissed_ at me."

Severus blinked at her, dimly aware that he hurt all over and the room was starting to spin lazily. Also, he was very, very tired. _Bed,_ he thought, and tried (and failed) to free his arm from Lupin's grip. _Want my bed._ He could see it in his mind, the spacious four-poster with heavy green hangings and a big fluffy duvet nestled up against the stone wall under special lake-facing window that the castle had made for him when he was named Head of Slytherin. _That's not your bed_ , murmured a small voice in the back of his mind. _You don't sleep there. You sleep -_

"Insolent little baggage," Lupin said, unwanted, nonsensical and distracting as usual. 

Severus scowled at him and the strange woman made a huffing noise. Severus was about to tell her off when a ripple of hot and cold rolled over him and he shivered. The woman started talking again, something about someone called Mr. Iverson, and Severus tugged on his arm again, wanting to get away from her voice and endless discussions of naughty whiskers, but Lupin would not be dislodged. Then the woman grabbed his other arm and started talking about mustard and yogurt plasters, and Severus was honestly sure he was going to deposit the contents of his stomach in her well-upholstered lap.

"Mmm, well, I don't think it's his chest that's the trouble," Lupin said, when she finally took a breath. "But I'm sure a cup of your special tea wouldn't come amiss."

Severus thought about objecting, but changed his mind when she dropped his arm and (thanks be to Merlin) left the flat.

"Right," Lupin said, curling his fingers around Severus' elbow and helping him to his feet. "I've tidied up the worst of it. I'm going to give you some potions, and then you're going to go and rest. I'll wake you up for the Queen's speech."

Lupin let go, and Severus swayed for a moment, caught between processing Lupin's words and remembering how to stay upright. It was a narrow thing, but he managed to not fall over and reluctantly nod in agreement at the same time. He didn't really want to rest at Lupin's, he wanted to go home to his own bed, but he didn't know where it was or what it looked like. He also kept thinking of the green bed and remembering it wasn't his, and it was giving him a headache. 

He realized he had pressed his fingers against his face when Lupin pulled them away and led him into the bedroom. Still dizzy, Severus allowed Lupin to undress him down to his shorts, then sat down on the bed and drained the vials Lupin gave him, wrinkling his nose at the bitter aftertaste of the headache draught. _Didn't grind the willowbark fine enough,_ he thought, and then the pillow was coming up to meet him, and he was asleep.

**

The next time Severus opened his eyes, it was dark outside, and he could hear people talking in the other room. One of them was Lupin; the rest of the voices, also male, were unfamiliar. Severus curled up a little tighter under the covers, wondering if the Aurors had finally come for him, and contemplated escape. He would have to get back to London, of course, or – no, perhaps just up the coast a bit. There were ferries to France from Newhaven, and -- if he wanted to go further -- to Portugal, from Portsmouth. His cock reminded him that it had heard there were several fine brothels in Bilbao, and he slid a hand into his shorts to stroke it gently in gratitude.

The voices rose and fell, and he sat up, shivering a little as the blankets fell off his shoulders. He had just about mustered enough energy to start looking for his clothes when the door popped open and the woman with the cats ( _Mrs. Warner_ ) came in bearing a tray full of food, a candle trailing behind her. 

"Oh, you're awake," she said, and Severus thought he heard a note of disappointment in her voice. "I've brought your tea. Chicken soup with leeks, and some of our Mhairi's chocolate cake for pudding."

Severus blinked at her. Perhaps he wasn't going to be arrested? She set the tray down on the trunk at the end of the bed and smoothed her dress down with both hands. _Big hands for a woman,_ Severus thought, noting a certain roughness around her knuckles. _And good sturdy stirring wrists._ His cock emitted a brief spark of interest and then went quiet, and he looked back at her face, automatically wondering if he had taught her. _No, too old, before my time._ He was surprised when she flushed pink and glared at him.

"Thank you, Mattie," Lupin said from the doorway, and her face relaxed a fraction. "I'll have the dishes back this afternoon, all right?"

"With some shrivelfigs," she said, still glaring at Severus, her chin rising into a posture that was almost defiant. 

"And a cup of Pepper-Up," Lupin murmured, stepping into the room.

Severus blinked at her again, and then she was gone, skirts swirling around her, stepping neatly around Lupin on her way out the door. Lupin made a small noise in the back of his throat that Severus ignored, then settled against the dresser. Severus stood up carefully and retrieved his robe from a nearby chair, acutely aware of the pointed way that Lupin was looking at the floor. He probably felt he was owed an explanation. 

_I was attacked,_ Severus thought as he picked up the cup of soup, rolling the words over in his mind. It was true, and also the most obvious excuse; Lupin had probably worked out that much for himself already anyway. And the MLE, assuming that was who had been at the door earlier, would have told him that much too. But Dark Creature or not, Lupin was a Gryffindor to the bone. He would want more – names, locations – and possibly even justice, which would be a catastrophe. 

"Lydia's asked me to tell you there's a room free downstairs, if you'd like it," Lupin said, interrupting Severus' thoughts. "Bedroom, sitting room and full bath, one galleon a week and you can have as many animals as you like, as long as they aren't acromantulas or ashwinders. They've had problems with that before, so she likes to be clear."

Severus raised his head, intending to demand to know who had been at the door and what Lupin had said to make them go away, but thought better of it when he saw Lupin's expression. He didn't look angry exactly, just tired and pushed past his patience. It reminded Severus a good deal of the way Albus had used to look at him when Severus came back from attending the Dark Lord.

"There's a -- well, it's not a proper potions lab, really, just a cauldron or two and a fire pit. Anyway, it's next to the kitchen," Lupin said, turning to look out the window. "All the tenants get the use of it. The Wizarding section of town isn't very big, but you can get the _Prophet_ and parchment, right enough."

Severus took a deep drink of soup and considered the offer. His head was still sort of fuzzy -- it had to be, if he was actually interested in sharing a barely adequate potions lab in the back end of Britain with a werewolf and a hotel full of indigent busybodies -- but the knot in stomach had loosened slightly. His cock was silent, which he chose to take as acceptance. 

"All right," he said, though part of him was still wondering what the catch was going to be, and drained the mug. 

Lupin made another small noise and straightened up. Severus picked up the fork and took a small bite of cake, dimly aware that his hands were shaking. 

"Right, well, I'll just let her know, so it can be tidied," Lupin said, and walked out of the room. 

Severus finished the cake slowly, savoring the heavy, rich chocolate. It didn't do much for the tremors in his fingers, but it did ease the heaviness in his chest. By the time he finished, he was exhausted, and barely managed to float the empty plate onto the dresser before falling asleep against Lupin's pillows.

**

"He's a _menace_ ," Mattie said, clanging her spoon against the inside of her mug for emphasis. "Up at all hours stirring cauldrons of Merlin-knows-what, and Lady forbid you try and tell him the mugwort from the road isn't quite like the mugwort he'll be used to from up North! Poor Eustacia will never be the same."

Remus _hmm_ 'd at her, hiding a smile in his mug of tea. He knew he ought to be more sympathetic, but truth be told, it warmed him to know Severus was terrorizing people in a potions lab. Remus had also noticed that several of the more decrepit occupants of the lobby had started to look less abused by life, and the worry lines around the eyes of the girls who lived above him who also, as Mattie put it, "received gentleman callers" had begun to fade.

Remus had put his head around the door twice. The first time, Severus had growled and flung a shrivelfig at him, and Remus had ducked away just in time to avoid it hitting him in the face. The second time, Remus had been passing through the lobby when he heard Severus talking about armadillo bile in a suspiciously familiar cadence. Remus had peeked through the door and found Severus surrounded by a motley collection of pupils, including one of his neighbors' "gentleman callers." He had watched for a moment, a strange hot, fizzy feeling spreading through his chest, then retreated upstairs before Severus noticed him.

"The impertinent baggage came by while you were sleeping," Mattie said, pulling him back to the present, and tipped her head towards the goblet of Wolfsbane steaming on the dresser.

"Mattie," Remus said, letting a little bit of reproach into his tone. He opened his mouth to say _you know Hermione has a job to do_ and was surprised by violent sneeze.

"Lady bless you," Mattie said, the edges of her mouth quirking up into a smile. "I offered her a cup of tea but she didn't stay; lots of work, she said. Places to be, people to annoy."

Remus sighed; sometimes he was surprised that Mattie and Severus didn't get along better, united as they were in their dislike of anyone connected to the Ministry. Mattie sniffed at him and pulled out her knitting, and Remus Summoned the goblet. The contents were as vile as ever, and he took an extra deep drink of his tea when he finally got it all down. 

"Clytemnestra sent an owl," Mattie said a bit later, when Remus had settled back against his pillows and was starting to drift off again. "Husband's done a bunk, apparently. Wants me to come and mind the children for a day or two."

"I'm sorry," Remus murmured, forcing himself back to wakefulness. Mattie had numerous daughters, and he had to concentrate to keep them all straight in his head. He was pretty sure he'd actually met Clytemnestra. "She's in – Aberystwyth?"

"Aberfoyle," Mattie said absently. "But you'll be all right, on your own? Being it's your time, and all?"

"I'll be fine," Remus said, reaching out to pat the edge of her knee. She glanced up from her knitting, her eyes shadowed and startled at the same time, and he pulled his hand back. "Give her my condolences, and if there's anything she needs –"

"Shame you can't get a new brain for her," Mattie grumbled, straightening her shoulders. "The girl never did have a lick of sense. I'd like to know what she thought she was doing, running off with a Ravenclaw. And a Fawcett, as well."

Remus made an agreeable clucking noise and pulled the covers higher over his shoulders as he curled towards her. He had a cold, which always made the moon more difficult, but he'd survived worse. Mattie launched into a detailed description of her son-in-law's failings, and Remus let his eyes slide shut.

**  
Severus was in the act of lowering the flames beneath the cauldron of steadily bubbling Pepper-Up when someone started banging on the door to his – to _the_ potions lab.

"What is it?" he called out, one hand hovering over the cauldron.

Whoever it was just banged harder, then started yanking on the doorknob for good measure. Severus narrowed his eyes at the door and waved it open with a silent _Alohamora_.

One of the tiny whores from upstairs fell in, her face pale save for two high spots of colour on her cheeks. Her red hair was pulled back in a loose knot, as if she had been interrupted in the middle of putting it up. Severus' cock had been interested in her for a while, until he realized her brother had been his student. 

"Please, Professor – the wolf – " she stammered, and Severus stripped his gloves off and threw them at her without stopping to think.

"Keep stirring," he said as he pushed past her in the doorway, and she scrambled to obey.

Severus took the stairs two at time, torn between rage and genuine fear, but when he arrived at Lupin's door, the crowd of people outside were making most of the noise. One of them, another one of the whores from upstairs and a Gryffindor if ever Severus knew one, was trying to get past Lupin's wards on the door. They were holding, though they were sparking occasionally. Severus could hear Lupin ( _the man_ , he thought, _not the wolf, the moon has long since set_ ) thumping and crashing on the other side of the door.

"Get away from there, you idiot," Severus growled, and could not help but be pleased when she squeaked and jumped backwards. "Downstairs, all of you, now."

"You can't order us about." The voice, whiny, male, and over-bred, came from somewhere in the crowd. Severus was fairly certain he'd made a virility potion for that voice within the last two weeks.

"The wolf's gone mad. That means we get to kill it," called out one of the weedy boys whose full time occupation, as far as Severus could tell, was hanging about outside the lobby, smoking dodgy roll-ups. "And we'll be getting a bounty, Mum said –"

"It's all right, sir, kindest thing, really, putting him out of his misery," cut in one of the ladies near the front of the crowd. She had an ample bosom, lustrous red hair and sold fish and chips on the promenade; Severus' cock had been interested right up to the moment she professed her undying affection for Stubby Boardman. "Our Nettie was nearly through the wards just now, if you –"

"Ten galleons!" shouted another one of the weedy boys. "Auld bitch upstairs can't turn us away from t'door wi' that!"

Severus drew himself up to his full height and regarded them steadily. They were, to a man, the fleshy, graceless, over-worked sort of people that Narcissa Malfoy (and Severus' mother) would have referred to as "common stock". Severus would also have bet all fifteen of the Galleons he had painstakingly accrued in his time at the hotel that it would take the combined force of all of them to successfully accomplish a simple _Wingardium Leviosa_. He could see fear on some of their rough-reddened faces, mixed in with glee, and sometimes with what seemed to be genuine regret. Severus could also see them sizing _him_ up, weighing their odds. 

One of the weedy boys at the back coughed quietly, and Severus heard the faint _clink_ of what were probably brass knuckles. The girl who had been working on the wards ( _Nettie_ ) shouldered her way back to the front of the crowd, the fat, velvety ball of her purse swinging gently at the end of the strings wrapped around her fingers. Severus could see the edges of coins in the fabric and the light of battle in her eyes, and for the first time in over twenty years, the wand in his hand felt like an insufficient weapon.

 _Nothing but vicious animals,_ Voldemort hissed in Severus' memory, sprawled in an innocent dead man's favorite chair. _The Ministry should be paying us for our services, Severus._

For a moment Severus considered Apparating away, leaving Lupin's fate up to Lupin's wards. It wasn't Severus' job, after all, to guard the wolf who had almost killed him -- twice. Severus shifted forward, ready to start the spin, and remembered Albus at his desk, fingers ( _both hands, whole_ ) curled around a cup of tea, rain bouncing off the windows. Albus' expression was tight, all his years in his eyes. _Lupin will do what we need to have done when the time comes, no matter what it might cost him,_ he had said. _Good night, Severus._

The weedy boys start shuffling forward and Severus growled, the noise startling and terrifying even to his own ears. 

"Downstairs," Severus repeated, raising his arm. The red-haired fishmonger's eyes went wide and frightened, and then the rest of them broke and ran. One of the weedy boys fell most of the way down the stairs, and Severus made a mental note to raise the price of his Skele-Gro.

He turned, prepared to blast the door open, and was shocked when the latch clicked over without him even laying a finger on the knob. Perhaps he had underestimated Nettie after all. The room beyond was mostly dark, and Severus could smell the sharp, sick-sweet scent of blood.

"Lupin," Severus called out, stepping inside and casting a gentle _Lumos_ as he shut the door behind him. The source of the crashing noises was immediately obvious; both of the kitchen chairs were on their sides, and the trail of low-level destruction continued into the sitting room. 

"Here, Severus." Lupin's voice was low but steady, and coming from somewhere roughly near the couch. Severus walked towards it, ignoring every instinct that told him to run.

"Your wards are weak, Lupin," Severus said, holding his wand up high, trying to get a better look at Lupin's injuries. The smell of blood was strong, and Lupin's face was a mess of scratches. He was also holding two bars of Honeyduke's finest in his hands. "You could have escaped."

"No," Lupin said, and Severus could have sworn he was laughing, though his face wasn't moving. "They're just set to open for you. The others are in no danger."

Severus took a breath or two, then cast a blood-repelling charm on his free hand and yanked Lupin upright by his elbow. Lupin swayed gently but didn't fall, and Severus took a moment to wave the rest of the lights on. Lupin made a small pained noise and closed his eyes; Severus did his best to disguise his own reaction with a narrow-eyed glare.

Lupin was naked, but beyond the blood and scratches on his face and some bruises on his ribs, didn't seem very badly injured. Severus grabbed his elbow again, marched him into the bedroom and dropped him on the bed. He very pointedly paid no attention to the low thrum of magic ( _Dark magic, so much power, so close, so close_ ) under Remus' skin.

"Thank you," Lupin murmured when Severus threw a night shirt at him, and set the chocolate down in order to pull it over his head. "This is very kind of you –"

"I hate you," Severus snapped, and Lupin's mouth turned up in a faint smile.

"I know, Severus. It's become quite comforting over the years, actually." Lupin tugged his wand out from between two books on the nightstand, and the smell of blood disappeared. "It's why my wards are keyed to you now, in fact. Well, you and Andromeda."

Severus just stared at him. The fishmongeress had been right, the man ( _wolf_ ) was raving.

"You know what I really am – have, I suspect, always known," Lupin continued, rubbing the tip of the wand over the scratches until they turned pale pink and faded away. "It's reassuring, knowing there's someone around who doesn't mistake the monster for a rabbit. You won't hesitate to kill me, if it has to be done. Though I do appreciate you stepping in today."

Remus glanced up at Severus, his brown eyes calm and steady in his well-lined human face, and Severus' stomach rolled over. 

"Yes," Severus murmured, biting down on urge to add _I'm sorry._ He looked at the floor, studying the divots in the wood and the curve of his own booted feet. "Albus believed in your humanity." _And mine._

"Albus believed in my utility as a tool," Lupin said gently, as if explaining something upsetting to a child. "He told me I was very _brave,_ you know, coming to school. And told me stories about Godric Gryffindor fighting battles on the moors."

"You asked the Hat to put you in Gryffindor." Severus said slowly, and was rewarded with a smile.

"It wanted me for Ravenclaw, like my father, but I insisted." Remus rolled to one side, pulled his knees up near his chest and settled against the pillows, his grin broadening. Severus' cock picked that moment to lose its mind and take an interest in Remus Lupin.

"I was – Mum would have – I demanded to be put in Slytherin," Severus said, too stunned by his cock to control his mouth.

"Mmm, Dad wasn't any too pleased," Lupin murmured, his eyes darkening briefly, and picked up one of the chocolate bars. "He wasn't _as_ angry as Sirius' father, but it was a near thing."

Severus _hmphed_ at that, obscurely comforted by the familiar bile rising in his throat at the thought of Sirius Black, and crossed his arms over his chest. He could hear muffled voices in the hallway, which probably meant the dunderheads were getting ready to try and force the wards open again, this time in the service of rescuing Severus.

"I'll go and see to them in a minute," Lupin said, breaking off a piece of chocolate and holding it out in silent inquiry. Severus paused, still reeling from his cock's betrayal, then took it and popped it in his mouth. "Want a cup of tea?"

Severus hesitated, the need to get away from Lupin's calm expression and back to the (doubtless ruined) Pepper-Up warring with his cock's _yes, yes._ He turned and faced the door, hoping looking at something that wasn't Lupin would clear his head.

"There's biscuits in the kitchen, and I think Puddlemere is playing the Wasps tonight," Lupin said, and Severus heard faint popping noises that were probably Lupin eating more chocolate. "I was going to put it on, if you wanted to listen in."

Severus turned to face Lupin, intending to say _I have more important things to do than babysit you, wolf,_ but "All right" came out instead. 

Lupin's eyes widened, and Severus was suddenly sure he hadn't meant for the invitation to be accepted. Lupin was, after all, nothing if not insufferably polite. But then Lupin's face shifted into a broad smile, and Severus felt his stomach relax for the first time in months.

"All right," Severus repeated, and didn't pull his hand away when Lupin reached out to squeeze it.


End file.
